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Toll Keeper
"Please pull back the tarp on your wagon. Carrying pickled beets, are we? Well, there’s a penny tariff on all pickled goods hereabouts, in addition to the standard tolls." Basic (Core) Collecting money for the government is a thankless job. Doing so in the midst of the wilderness is practically a death sentence. Toll Keepers live in isolated roadside houses, collecting money from passing travellers. The monies collected go towards the upkeep of theroads, but that doesn’t stop travellers from berating, beating, and even killing Toll Keepers trying to do their jobs. If that weren’t bad enough, tollhouses are prime targets for bandits. A Toll Keeper’s life is so fraught with peril and few do it for very long, despite the high wages the position pays. Main Profile Secondary Profile Skills: Dodge Blow, Evaluate, Gossip or Haggle, Perception, Read/Write, Search, Speak Language (Breton, Kislevian, or Tilean) Talents: Lightning Reflexes or Marksman Trappings: Chest, Crossbow with 10 Bolts, Medium Armour (Mail Shirt and Leather Jerkin), Shield, 1d10 gc Career Entries Bailiff, Coachman, Roadwarden Career Exits Ferryman, Fieldwarden, Highwayman, Outlaw, Soldier, Politician, Thief A Day in the Life The problem with being a toll keeper is that you live in the middle of nowhere, with no one for support or relief. The good news is that you live in the middle of nowhere, with no one to oversee you or boss you around. Being a toll keeper is bad enough that most men in the job take advantage of the few perks it offers. One of those is setting your own hours. The toll keeper’s booth is usually set up right beside the road, at a point where it is impossible to pass to the side instead due to thick trees, heavy rocks, sheer drops, or some combination thereof. A heavy beam blocks the road itself, worked by a winch in the tollbooth. Thus anyone wanting to take that road must pay the toll, which means they must wait upon the toll keeper’s pleasure. Because of this, particularly smug toll keepers rarely get out of bed before dawn, and often take their time washing and dressing and breakfasting. Then they stroll out of their house and across to the booth, unlock the door, let themselves in, lock the door behind them, and finally unlock and open the small side window. Now they are finally ready for business. After that the day passes into tedium. Toll keepers can see people approaching for a good distance, so they can get out of their booth from time to time to stretch their legs. The minute they see travellers, however, they hurry back to the booth and lock themselves in. After all, you never know who is willing to pay the toll and who will turn to violence instead. The toll keeper sits inside his little fortified booth, charging each traveller before raising the gate, and watching the road the rest of the time. Bandits often attack tollbooths, so it’s important to stay alert and not to venture too far from the booth’s protection. By the time dusk settles, the toll keeper is done. He pours the day’s tolls into a sack, locks the tollbooth behind him as he exits, and carries the money back to his house, where he counts it and records the amount. Then he is free to eat, drink, and do whatever else he likes before turning in. Few men can stand the solitude and constant danger long, which is why most toll keepers only last a few years at best. Notable Figures Hertzog Brenmuller was a roadwarden for several years before he was awarded his own tollbooth. After years of pacing long stretches of road, he was pleased to settle down. Hertzog is a quiet man who enjoys reading and woodcarving, and he immediately took to the isolated life of a toll keeper. He whittles and carves while sitting in his booth, and has decorated the booth itself, transforming its solid wood surface into a fantastical menagerie. Of course he is no fool, and so he also whittles crossbow bolts—a large supply of them sit on the table in front of him, right beside the two crossbows he keeps loaded. Only a few brigands have been desperate enough to attack Hertzog, and they did not live to tell of their failure, but their bodies, stripped and staked along the road, warns away others of their kind.